Tether
by Lily Herondale
Summary: A collection of one shots comprising of pairing Stydia (Stiles Stilinski and Lydia Martin from Teen Wolf) written by yours truly.
1. Another Red Light

**Author's Note:-  
><strong>**Heya guys!  
><strong>**So this 'story' is basically a collection of one-shot fanfictions for Teen Wolf's pairing Stydia (VIVA LA STYDIA). I'm currently writing for a page so I decided that I would post those fics here too, just for a wider viewer thingie :)  
><strong>**I HOPETH YOU LIKETH  
><strong>**Cheers!**

**Another Red Light**

It was official; Lydia Martin hated Stiles Stilinski.  
>She hated his perpetually messy hair which always looked like he had rolled out of bed. She hated his eyes- those two shots of liquid gold- which were always alight with faith and conviction. She hated the way he tripped all over the place, never failing to make her laugh. She hated the way he looked at her, like she was the only person he saw. Well the way he <em>used to <em>look at her.  
>She hated the way he always believed in her and made sure she knew it too, just so that it would make her feel a little better about herself.<br>Most of all, she hated the way her stomach felt like a nest of butterflies had suddenly erupted in there, every time she was around him.  
>Though that didn't stop her from imagining herself throttling the life out of him for aggravating her so much.<br>But maybe this was bound to happen. Because karma was such a supreme bitch (and well Lydia believed so was she herself) that all these feelings came to her in full throttle only when it was too late. Only had she opened her eyes for real when that asshole Stilinski was _finally _with another.  
>She should be happy for him, she knows it. He had spent so much of his life pining after her, with her being oblivious of his very existence and now she knows how it feels. Well obviously he isn't <em>oblivious of his existence <em>as she herself was but sometimes she can't help but feel invisible. Not just to him but to everyone. As if with Allison's death, she had faded away in their eyes.  
>Or maybe it just wasn't that. Maybe it was Malia. In other circumstances Lydia would have liked the girl, been friends with her even. But she couldn't help but feel like the other girl had...replaced her?<br>The old Lydia Martin would never had thought that. The old Lydia Martin would have snarked something back, tossed her perfect curls and sashayed out, consequences be damned. The old Lydia Martin was a bitch but she was a popular bitch.  
>Now Lydia knew how much she had depended on her image. And how lonely she felt without it.<br>All but stomping in her boots, she strode over to her car, flinging the door open with ferocity born of anger, an anger that seemed to be on boiling point quite frequently nowadays. Anger was good though, burning rage that made her shake slightly with a desire to fling things around. Anger was better than what came after, better than the time she spent wrapped up in her blanket with the drowning feeling of not being seen. _Out of sight, out of mind, _that seemed to be the current chapter of her story. She just hoped in was a short one.  
>But honestly how dare he! How dare Stiles cancel their plan at the last minute! On her birthday too! Sure he was apologetic and sure he practically repeated his assurance of taking her out another day about a million times but that certainly did not help. All because little Malia had showed up and was adamant in wanting her 'boyfriend' all to herself for the night, oblivious to the anticipation that had festered in Lydia when Stiles had promised 'the best birthday of all birthdays'.<br>And as she jammed her key into ignition and pulled out of her driveway, Lydia did not really have a destination in mind. She just needed to get out of her room, the room that she seemed to be spending all her time in, and she needed to breathe.  
>The logical part of her brain was aware that she was making mountains out of molehills and it screamed at her to stop the car as she whizzed past a red light, mentally giving the world the middle finger. But Lydia was so beyond the point of actually caring. And she was so beyond the point of logical reasoning because lets face it, nobody needed Lydia Martin. She could easily be moved down the list of priorities until it was suitable. Hell just drop her into the trashcan of your memory box while you were at it. She'll understand.<br>Whoops there goes another red traffic light.  
>Maybe the worst part of this...lets call it rejection, was that it came from <em>Stiles.<em>That sweet, honey eyed boy who looked at her and saw the comets and constellations. Who treated her like Prince Eric treated Ariel. Who was always kind to her. Who literally bought a flat screen tv _for her.  
><em>Maybe this was all her fault. Oh yes it was karma, proved that, Lydia thought furiously, swiping away at the tears that escaped her eyes. For so long, she hadn't returned his feelings. And why? Because she was scared. Because Lydia had faced many many monsters but had never been more scared than when faced with a decision that made her let people in. She did once, with Jackson. Look how well that turned out. It made her walls shoot up skyward but maybe the one person she wanted in her fortress with her was stuck out. And them maybe he got tired of pounding on the walls, pleading with her to let him in.  
>She trusted him, oh yes she did. She just didn't trust her own heart. She didn't know at that time whether, if she peeled the band-aid off, it would be healed below. And that had cost her.<br>Because now, under a new band-aid was a new wound. Newer. Fresher. And god knows when it'll be healed. The thought just brought more tears to her eyes.  
>So now she allowed the words to come out, that hid in her for so long.<br>"I," she began, tasting each word, each word bittersweet.  
>"Love." This word came out like a sob. It was hesitant but it was there and it was actually being said.<br>"Stiles."  
>There. The three wretched words were out. And she had given in to the fact that she might never say them again.<br>Another red light.  
>A blaring horn.<br>A flash of light.  
>The world thrown in a whirlwind.<br>A strike of pain.  
>Darkness.<br>*****

Stiles Stilinski knew what it felt like having the world swiped from beneath your feet.  
>He remembered the day his mother passed away, how he held her hand until she took her last shuddering breathe. He had sat in the waiting room- after they had taken her away to the morgue- boxed in walls of white, but feeling like he was falling.<br>Falling through an eternal abyss, through abject darkness with no holds to cling on to.  
>He had his first panic attack in that waiting room.<br>Arguing with Malia had already sapped him emotionally, sending his head spinning. They seem to be doing a lot of that lately; arguing that it. He'd feel like something was missing between them and she'd get frustrated that he could not explain it.  
>"You're still in love with her!" Malia had exploded, her fists clenched by her sides. Watching his face morph into an expression of shock, she continued, not allowing him to interfere. "And don't you dare deny it Stiles! I can see it, you're in love with her and I refuse to fall for someone who will never return my feelings."<br>"Ma-"  
>"<em>No," <em>she ground out. "I won't. You did and look what it did to you. She crushed you repeatedly but you brushed yourself off and got up with another smile. Because that's who you are, you're too selfless. And I'm not, I can't do that." She finally looked him straight in the eye, hers slightly watery. He couldn't remember the last time she looked close to tears. "I'm sorry Stiles."  
>And then she had left, left without saying another word, left despite his protests and gone to god alone knew where. He was worried for her, beyond worried really- where would she go?- but he collapsed onto his bed, holding his head in his hands.<br>Lydia…he had always been in love with her. But after she got together with Aiden and then Aiden _died _he had decided to give her space. Space to clear her head and not be forced by others to rush into a hasty decision. And as time passed, he often did wonder that maybe all they were destined to be was friends. Maybe there was nothing more to their relationship. Truth be told, he had decided he would be content with that. Maybe not over joyous, but content because a little bit of Lydia was better than none at all.  
>He had not expected that phone call from his dad.|<br>One sentence. Said tightly.  
>"You need to get to the hospital now."<br>His first thought: Malia. Had something happened to her after she left? No that was absurd, she just walked out. How could she be in the hospital already? Scott? But why would a true alpha need the hospital?  
><em>Lydia?<br>_Now he could tell it was her from his dad's voice.  
>No more thinking. He just ran.<br>****

Another waiting room. God he was beginning to detest waiting rooms.  
>He couldn't sit, he couldn't keep still. He wanted to be in the operating theater, watching over her because fucking damnit, he was supposed to be with her tonight and he failed her and look what happened.<br>Scott watched him pace, worry in his eyes, not just for the banshee but for his best friend who looked close to another panic attack. Kira was curled up in the chair next to him. Derek leaned against the wall opposite them, staring into space. Hell even Liam, Chris Argent and Isaac- who was in town to visit- were here.  
>But they could have been invisible for all the attention Stiles paid to them. Words like <em>internal bleeding <em>and _cranial trauma _revolved in his mind, swimming before his eyes. He tried to imagine being in her place, hit by a truck driver at an traffic light intersection. Oh no, no he didn't want to imagine that. He won't be able to handle that.  
>"It's all my fault," he whispered softly to himself because goddammit the guilt lathering those words was going to choke him if he didn't shove them out.<br>Of course, being in a room full of supernatural creatures and one expert hunter with the ears of a bat really proved this to be pointless. All eyes turned to him, heavy with pity but one set flashed with…anger? He couldn't tell and that was a first when it came to reading Scott.  
>"No," Scott argued. "It's not just your fault. It's all our fault. We've been practically ignoring her and all it took for us to see that was car crash and her almost dying."<br>Stiles couldn't help but feel worse after that.  
>"The death pool is over and now we don't have any more excuses- not that we had one in the first place. We look out for each other and from now on that's exactly what we will continue." He looked each of them in the eye. "And I'll be damned if any person in my pack suffers because of my negligence. I'm going to make things right."<br>****

She opened her eyes to see what she wanted to the most. Two shots of liquid gold. Didn't she detest those eyes? She couldn't remember.  
>"Didn't I tell that if you died, I'd go out of my freaking mind?"<br>She smiled after what felt like years.

**Okay I stuffed up the ending supremely, I'll admit it.**

**But please review and tell me what you liked and didn't like! Reviews are like apple flavoured lollipops ^-^**

**UNTIL NEXT TIME,**

**May the force be with you,**

**~Lily Herondale**


	2. Bubbles

**Bubbles**

"ALLISON."

Her own scream shook her to the bone, she could feel it rattling in her. It was like a bungee chord had been cut in her and she was falling, falling through an eternal abyss of darkness with that goddamned scream ricocheting in her head. Unable to keep in her heaving sobs, her body instinctively leaned towards a source of comfort, towards that one person- despite recent events- who could make her feel safe. She wanted to be out there, trying to find _some way _to save Allison (even though the banshee in her told her it was in vain). But another part of her wanted to stay, to look over the unconscious body which was a mere shell of the boy she had grown to love, to at least keep him safe when she could not do anything else.

She hated feeling helpless but that is what she's been feeling ever since Peter Hale showed his ugly face in her life.

"FUCK."

He hit the steering wheel again and again, until his palms ached and grew cherry red. With a strangled yell of frustration, he slumped back into his seat, feeling more drained than ever. Releasing a short breath and running a hand through his hair, he tried to not let his failure get to him; tried to clear his mind and start again. _He needed to find her._

Lydia had been missing for two weeks, _two entire weeks. _Once the nogitsune was dead, she had vanished the next day. No note, no text, no whisper. Nothing but a trail of dust in her wake.

Stiles was going out of his mind with worry. That girl had always been his weak point and she would forever be that.

Once again, he propped his laptop open at the passenger seat and let the already typed Web address load. Biting at his lower lip, his fingers hovered above the keys. He knew her ID- if only he could figure out her password, he would be able to track her phone and find her. He hoped her phone hadn't died because that would mean another idea gone down the drain and he already felt like he was grasping at straws.

Scott had tried to track her scent but they had not gone further than a seedy bar at the edge of town. The only smell that drifted out was of strong alcohol. It made Stiles sick to think that Lydia was in such close quarters to the crowd that came here. But hey it was a start. She had to have gone somewhere further from there, not back.

His fingers started moving without his mind registering the fact. One word, five letters. _Tulip._

He did not know why that word stood out so much in his mind, that he had subconsciously assumed it would the password he had been struggling to find for so long. But all he could think of how little Lydia back in third grade used to spend their recess drawing tulips of the brightest red instead of playing outside. And how he had shyly offered her one, which his amused mother had bought him on the way to school, and how her face had light up looking at it and realizing the fact that _someone _had noticed.

And lo and behold. It logged him in.

He resisted the urge to let out a whoop of celebration. Working fast, he activated the GPS.

Five tortuous seconds passed.

_Ding._

"Bingo," he muttered softly, zooming into the map.

She was only 10 minutes away.

Making sure no one else was in the corridor, Stiles swiped out his Swiss army knife. Thank god the guy at the reception was feeling generous enough to tell him the room number. He must have been in a good mood.

He was in a cheap motel- the lord bless technology for leading him there. Though it reminded him a bit too much of The Glen Capri and he resisted the urge to run out screaming. Yup, he was scared of motels, not the most normal thing in one's list of phobias.

He had been knocking for what felt like five hours than five minutes. Throwing caution to the winds- for all he knew Lydia might come flying towards him with a frying pan to beat him up with- he slipped in the pick and fiddled around until he heard the click and the door swung open before him.

Immediately he spotted a figure lounging in the couch by the bed. Shutting the door behind him softly, he took a couple of hesitant steps towards it. "Lydia?"

Her head swivelled around, the movement groggy. Her eyes were clouded over but the widest, goofiest smile he had ever seen suddenly appeared on her face. "Jackson!"

He stopped dead in his tracks, momentarily stunned.

His lack of response didn't faze her. "Jackson, you came back. I knew you would. I knew it."

He looked at her sadly,his heart breaking for her. She had lost so many people and this was the happiness she would feel if any of them came back. "You're wasted."

She didn't seem to have heard him. "Jackson, Jackson, Jackson," she chanted the name like a mantra, like a little child who had learned a new word, like a woman clinging to her last connection to the world to prevent the descend into insanity. "I knew you'd come back." She looked so pleased to be right.

Stiles sank into the sofa next to her, sighing softly at the sight of the beer bottles that littered the floor, each absolutely empty of their contents, each glinting under the lights. "Why did you do this Lyds?"

She kicked away a stray bottle, almost like a child would when bored. "Whenever I was sick or needed help, it was like someone magically teleported to where I was. I figured maybe this was the only way to get someone to notice that I need help because nobody saw me otherwise." She said it as if it was a matter of fact, as if she hadn't known any other reality. "Also it's like huge colourful bubbles in my head," she confided, as if expecting him to keep the secret. "It blocks out all the ugly things and only makes me see pretty ones."

"What ugly things Lyds?" Stiles asked softly.

She frowned slightly, as if sensing that what she perceived what not as it was but quickly shrug it off and continued. "Stiles fainting when I thought he had died. Allison dying. Stiles kidnapped by the nogitsune. Aiden dying. Stiles almost about to stab himself, just to save us." She turned to him now, previously having been addressing the room in general. "You leaving and never even bothering to call once."

In an alternative universe, Stiles may have felt jealous of Jackson when hearing the hurt behind the last sentence. Now he just wanted to run the were-lizard-turned-werewolf over with his own goddamn Porsche. "I'm sorry."

"You should be." She pouted. "I mean I did everything to save your life even when you treated me like shit. And after all those years of being friends and then being together, you'd think a person would call or something."

Stiles didn't want to but he felt like she had to ask, just for his own peace of mind. "Do...do you still love me?"

She seemed to thinking that over. "No not really," she replied finally and Stiles would be lying if he said he didn't feel a rush of relief. "I mean I did for a while but I'm over it now. I still think of you as one of my best friends though." She gave him a wide smile which just blew him away. "And no matter what you do, I will always think of you that way."

He smiled back at her, a little sadly, a little in relief to find her in one piece and mostly in understanding. Because he understood what had been going on in that little strawberry blonde head. "C'mon Lyds. Let's get you home."

She obliged happily, accepting his offered hand and standing up but she was off balance and almost fell flat on her face, had Stiles not caught her. Any other day she would have been flustered but now she giggled like a little girl, looking up at him with shining eyes. "I'll let you in on a little secret." She gestured with her hand until his ear was right next to her chapped lips. "Remember when I said I was waiting for someone to come and help me?" After his nod of confirmation, she continued, "I was expecting Stiles to come, he's always the one who rushes in to take care of me. And even though I will never admit it to him, I'm glad that he does. I'm really glad that of all people he's the one who likes me." She had that faraway look in her eyes and was smiling to herself, as if stuck in a daydream she didn't want to end.

And, again, Stiles would be lying if he said that he didn't feel his heart fill at the sight. Just to see her happy was enough, to see her happy because of him was like he had finally done it. He had reached his goal to make Lydia Martin smile.

"And truth be told, I might be falling for him myself."

Well that line he did not expect. He did however expect the fireworks to go off in his head, just like he had imagined when he was all the way back in the third grade.

"Truth be told Lyds," he said softly, holding her up like a crutch would and slowly walking her out. "I think Stiles might be falling for you even harder than before. You really gotta stop doing that to a person."

* * *

><p><strong>Tada! New one! :D<strong>

**Just FYI, I submit this stuff to a (not so) little page called Stydia Fanfiction on Tumblr. Check 'em out, such amazing budding writers there! I'm stilinski-herondale, send me a message if ya spot me saying FFNet sent ya and I'll give you a high five back :D**

**Cheers!**

**~Lily Herondale xx**


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